Life, Death Fate
by Swimchik
Summary: Edward Masen disappeared over a year ago. His body was never found. Can Bella move on and forget the one she loved? Does she have to? ExB
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**Prologue:**

They say, when you die, your life is supposed to flash before your eyes. In a split second you are supposed to remember, and commemorate every memory ingrained into the very core of your mind. Random images will run through your mind, like a silent movie reel. You feel every emotion—love, hate, joy, agony, sadness, ecstasy. The pulsing of your heart is supposed to speed up and suddenly, it will halt. You will gasp for air, though it is a futile effort, and eventually, you will make peace with your death.

That is the way it is _supposed_ to happen.

You are not supposed to dwell on your small discomforts: that your back is itchy, hand you cannot scratch it because your arm is broken in four different locations; that your legs are sticking to the leather interior of your car; that you are getting blood on your favorite CD. Yet you can only think of these things.

Or rather, you won't let yourself remember the good parts, the important parts of your short life. Because everything that matters, anything worth reliving, relates to her. And if you think about her—the way her umber eyes light up, like an explosion of fireworks in a clear sky, when you kiss her, and the gorgeous flush of red that splashes, like the most glorious paint, across her creamy ivory skin, when she is embarrassed—the prominent pain of what you are about to lose will be ten million times worse than your so-near death.

So, yes, you forget she existed, you destroy every moment you two spent together, every phrase, sound, breath that came from her soft pink lips, and for an instant, you can't remember why death is so horrible. In that one instant, you prepare to leave this world behind forever.

Unfortunately for you, Fate has other plans.

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**A/N: This is going to be something other than a oneshot. I hope it is good. It was fun to write. Please review. **


	2. Bella

**A/N: Hi! If this doesn't really make that much sense yet, don't worry, it will...eventually. Anyway... I don't own this and all that jazz. **

**1)Bella **

"You don't have to do this today," Charlie said, placing his hand on my shoulder, "If it's too much for you to handle, or if you aren't ready… we can still go home, Bells." I could hear pain emanating from his voice; pain…and something else. Fear.

It seemed that those were the only things he ever felt anymore.

"I can do this, Dad," I replied. My voice _tried_ to be convincing, firm, but it only managed to come out detached and emotionless. "I need closure." I continued, hoping to alleviate some of his torment. My eyes bore into his and I saw him realize that this would be--not good for me, exactly—but still something that I _had_ to do... in order to... move on. I hoped--prayed-- it would not hurt too much.

Charlie nodded then reached his hand up to the wrought-iron and gate and pulled. It swung open, sending out a horrible creaking. He led me forward, guiding me through the many rows of headstones. As we passed through, I found myself bizarrely intrigued with them. Each one was different. They were all slightly different colors and shapes, made from a different rock, and beside nearly every one was a different bouquet, or stone. White stones, roses, lilacs, lilies, a black stone.

So many losses.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we paused at one of the tombstones.

It adorned neither stones nor flowers, but still managed to be the most beautiful tombstone ever. It suited him well.

"Do…do you want to be alone?" Charlie asked, sounding broken. I knew he wasn't broken because he had lost somebody, though he had cared a great deal for Edward. But rather, he remembered how hard it had been for me in those first months after he disappeared.

In the very beginning I had been driven by a hopelessly desperate, and near hysterical _need_ to find him. I barely rested; the chance that he would be found was the only thing keeping me going. But, after his case had run cold, I had become someone unrecognizable, and probably still would be, if it weren't for Charlie's sake. Charlie told me that I didn't move for weeks, and had to be hospitalized. I couldn't remember it at all, the only things I recalled were my hallucinations. After about three weeks they started coming.

At first, it was just Edward's voice telling me that I needed to move on with my life. I deluded myself into thinking it could have been a message from him, from beyond, and so I listened to it. And from that point on whatever that voice asked I did. I would do anything to hear _him_. Usually it was just little things: eat, sleep, shower, talk. Eventually I figured out that I was hallucinating, but by that point I had seen how badly I had harmed Charlie and Renee, so I kept doing what the voice told me. I can still hear it, on occasion.

Sometimes I think it would so much easier to crawl back into the catatonic state I once lived in, but then I see Charlie's face light up, just when I talk or eat, or_ breathe_, and I'd know I can never return to that solace. Today was the first real conversation I'd really had with… _anyone_ in months.

Charlie sighed, reminding me of his previous question. I had been so wrapped up in myself, that I hadn't even noticed he was still there.

"If, if that would be alright," I managed to mumble. I didn't want him to see how hard this was for me. I had spent so long trying to convince him that this wouldn't put me in _that_ state again.

"Ok, hon." Charlie consented. He gave me a small and sad smile, "If you need anything, anything at all, I'll just be over by the car," He wrapped me in an awkward, but sweet, hug before walking away.

I waited until he was out of hearing distance before I began talking.

"Edward, if you can hear me, I...I just came to give you my love, one last time." I paused, unsure of what to say next. A tear rolled down my flushed cheek, landing on the bouquet I had been clutching. "I also brought you flowers," I muttered. I carefully laid the flowers-- freesia, his favorite-- down on his grave.

"I don't really know what else to say…" My eyes flashed to the headstone. _Edward Masen, beloved child and friend, _was inscribed into the rough granite. I raised my finger and traced the letters. The sharp pain I had grown accustomed to ripped through my chest, consequently tearing open the gaping hole which resided there.

"I still love you…" I murmured, "I think I always will." I stopped, breathless from the pain, "I-I don't know how to go on," my body was shaking, quivering with an indescribable torture.

"I wish you were still here." I doubled over, trying to keep myself in one piece.

"I think I should go find Charlie before this becomes… too much," I cried.

I wanted to leave, yet I didn't. I felt trapped; terrified of leaving—of even looking away-- from his grave, but I also knew I couldn't stay here, gasping on the muddy ground, for much longer.

"I love you," I said. Then, in an almost surreal movement, I crawled to his headstone and kissed his name. "I'll never forget you, for all of forever," I whispered, before climbing to my feet and walking off to see Charlie.

Once back at the Cruiser, Charlie took one look at me before his face erupted in shock. It took me a moment to realize why he looked that way. Then it dawned on me: this was the first time I really showed any emotion, good or bad, in over a year.

"Oh, Bella," he murmured.

"Dad," I whimpered. Salty tears flowed down my face in streams—rivers—staining my shirt and face.

Charlie helped me into the car. And for a while, I just sat there, crying.

"Can we go home now?" I finally managed to whisper. I stared out the foggy window wishing that I could be one of the tall evergreen trees in the distance. Trees can't_ feel. _They can't love. I composed my face before turning back to Charlie expectantly.

"Sure, Bells" my Dad evaluated me, "Sure, Bells,"

We sped down the road back to our house trying desperately to leave everything back in the cemetery.

When we returned home I made a mad dash for my room, needing to sort out everything I was feeling.

Unfortunately, those plans were all abruptly canceled when I sat down on my bed. Because, when I had looked up the last person I had ever expected in my room was staring me down.

Alice Cullen.

"Bella," She sighed.

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**So... please review!! I loooovve reviews. Constructive criticism is appreciated. OH! I hate typos... so if I made some let me know. Thanks for reading! **

Swimchik


	3. Hope

"Alice Cullen?" I looked up at her with wide eyes and a disbelieving gape plastered, quite literally on my face. "Wh-What, Why...uh, How did you get in here?." I found myself stumbling for words. I walked over to the bed and sat down on the comforter. This was surreal. Why would Alice Cullen one of the most unemotional, cold, beautiful people in my school have come to my house? Especially considering the fact that her family had supposedly moved to Miami.

"I jumped." Alice replied. There was no undercurrent of sarcasm in her voice, no snarky humor in the underlying context of her tone. She was dead serious, I realized.

"You...you jumped" I said, dazed, "through my locked window. Without breaking the glass."

"Yes," Alice confirmed. Her face didn't even turn upward the tiniest bit. Something strange wove its way through my body, pumping my heart faster and faster. Adrenaline, it had been gone so long from my life I could barely even recognize it. But, what was stronger than the adrenaline was the sheer terror acting as its initiator. As this realization crept into me I began to back away from Alice, with slow unsteady steps. I was just about to call for Charlie, when Alice opened her mouth and stopped me cold. "Edward's alive." She started, He's alive, more or less, and living with my family in Alaska."

_Edward_, the name rippled through my chest punching holes in my lungs. That is, until I connected the "alive" to the end of his name. Unfortunately, the unfamiliar sensation of hope didn't last long, as I remembered Alice was insane and probably sadistic. "DA--" I began, but my scream was cut short by something that felt like a train colliding with my midsection. Then I was flying. The thing and I zipped through the leafy canopy, traveling faster than humanly possible. I kicked my feet trying to get away from the clenching monster who held me so tight. It was only when Alice's voice told me to stop flailing or I'd hurt myself, that I pieced together what was going on.

Alice was the kidnapper.

"Put me down!" I screeched. "Get away from me! Let me go!"

Alice's voice sang out and echoed around me "Bella, I promise, I'll explain everything when we get there, in fact you'll probably even thank me." I sincerely doubted that.

From the speed Alice traveled at, I should have realized that I would not be able to escape. I should have realized that fighting would just cause me bodily harm. I should have, and maybe I did, but, in an act of supreme stupidity, I elbowed Alice, hard. The result was instantaneous I felt my bone shatter, like a glass mirror exploding into a million different pieces. I screamed in agony. But Alice just kept running.

I heard her mumble some words under her breath that sounded an awful lot like "I told him this was a bad idea, but did he listen...no-o." and "arrogant, idiotic lovesick boys".

After about twenty minutes I stopped struggling. Fighting seemed futile and it hurt my arm every time I moved. Alice ran constantly, never slowing nor speeding up. Although I was terrified, there was also a sick fascination in watching Alice's legs move. Though they blurred, they seemed graceful, like fully functioning factory machinery, all the gears and bells and whistles were locked tight into place.

After I got over my pain and naseua, about an hour into our endeavor, the cool whip of the air and the rush of the ground below was almost exhilarating. And somehow, through my pain, through my fear and exhilaration, I was happy. Because I had hope, hope that Edward, whom I had thought forever lost, was indeed, miraculously, found.


End file.
